Day 1: “Follow your nose”
As these things go, day one was unlike the days that would follow. We managed to stay mostly in the eye of the surrounding weather, getting spit on occasionally but generally avoiding the nasty stuff. At lunch time we rolled into a one street town and noticed a parking lot full of rigs at the local community center. Barbecue filled the air, and instincts set in. Minutes later—after receiving a family donation rate—we were heads down in a plate of brisket, baked potato, and cake, with folksy tunes coming from a live band of local characters just feet away. Stay curious, and trust your nose, you guys.
- 10 hours on a bike feels like 10 hours on a bike, there’s no getting around that one
- If you see a full lot in a small town, check it out
- A $5 brisket, baked potato, slaw, and cake lunch can’t be beat
- Spin, don’t push—a lesson bestowed to us over a gas station dinner of beer and cookies by a 60-year-old Jackson Hole resident turned part time Oregon pot farmhand. It would become a mantra for the entire trip. When someone who’s been cycling across the West since the 70s (and hasn’t owned a car in just as long) drops some casual knowledge, do your best to listen.
Day 2: “How are we still climbing?”
On the second day we woke to rain, maybe even a snow flurry. Had I known what was to come, I would’ve hunkered down in our MSR tent and refused to move. But I didn’t, so we hit the road with sights set on the Cowboy Dinner Tree, a legendary reservation-only restaurant some 55 miles ahead where the only thing on the menu is either a 30oz steak or a whole roasted chicken. In between waking and stumbling into CDT with shoes sloshing with water a lot of miserable shit happened—most notably a lot of rain, low 40 degree temps, and seemingly endless rolling hills.
Throughout the day I tried to think on what I had done in my life that was more difficult than this at that exact moment. I’ve done a lot of gnarly shit, but nothing came to mind. The only reason I rated this day a 9/10 was because I didn’t quit. Though had Uber been an option, there’s a serious chance I woulda taken it.
- If you have a reservation to meet, you’ll rider harder
- A 30oz steak won’t make up for a rainy day in hell, but it’ll sure take your mind off it for a few mins
- It is possible to have a net loss in elevation and still spend the entire day climbing
- Chamois butter might seem gross, but it does the trick
- 5 minutes spent laying down beats 15 of resting on your feet
- Can’t take the soup with you
- Don’t feel bad about making a smart decision to save the trip (shout out Silver Lake Mercantile for putting us up for the night after one of the trip’s most defeating days)
Day 3: “The Red Sauce ain’t shit”
Day three welcomed us with 50 mph headwinds, but thankfully some sunshine too. All reports stated this day would be the most difficult, with 20 miles of quicksand-like lava rock nicknamed the “Red Sauce” capping off the day's milage. We struggled to make process early on, averaging just 4 miles an hour due to the tremendous wind, but for once luck was on our side as we approached the volcanic zone—turns out the biblical rain that we’d encountered the day before packed down the sauce, making it into a rather lovely red road ripe for the ripping. Still, we didn’t hit our mileage goal, again.
- Leftover steak and eggs made in a tiny hotel room microwave is actually a pretty nice way to start a day
- Hydro Flasks may be heavier than single-wall bottles, but when the sun is out cold water is worth the weight of insulation
- It’s OK to not to meet your mileage goal
- Wind is worse than hail, but still probably not as bad as rain
- Never pass up an opportunity to refill water supplies
- Don’t settle for a shitty campsite / the best campsites take a bit of effort to find
- Even 30 minutes beside a campfire is enough to bring a trampled spirit back to life
- Cougars are big cats and use signs as scratching posts